When We Think There Won't Be A Dawn
by blairdrof
Summary: [One Shot] What if Broooke and Peyton hadn't told each other exactly why their friendship couldn't go back to the way it was? [Breyton]


**Disclaimer:** I do not own One Tree Hill or its characters.

**Warning:** This is slash. If you don't like, don't read. Rating due to some words and expressions.

**Author's Notes:** Set right after episode 10 from season 4. Lucas has already woken up but both him and Haley are still in the hospital. Today I was about to take a nap and when I was trying to fall asleep a nagging thought enetered my mind. This story came up and I had to write it, otherwise, it would be still nagging me and I wouldn't have got a nap. Just because Breyton rocks and it should be way more worshiped is why I wrote this. This is told from Peyton's POV. Hope you enjoy and PLEASE, REVIEW.

**WHEN WE THINK THERE WON'T BE A DAWN**

_By_

_Miss Waffles_

Ever wondered why humans, supposed to be the only creatures capable of reasoning and thinking, are so prone to act stupidly when they're in love? I've never really considered myself all that smart, at least not more than most people I know. If I were smart, I wouldn't have let hundreds of strangers see what I did, said and felt through my web cam. Now I look back at every major event in my life and I realize that I've fucked up big time.

You see, I used to be a happy child, until my mother died. After that, broken, I built thick walls around my heart. Walls that only one person could trespass. And that person was not my dad. My friend. My best friend, Brooke Davis. We had been attached to the hip since kindergarten, and our friendship only got stronger after my mother passed away. Brooke understood me, and I think she still does. Or at least I hope so. We would lie on my bed for hours talking about random things, mostly cheerleading, boys and music – the latter being only of my interest. She had managed to make my life bearable. And it was working. As long as I had her, I was fine. Key word being _was_.

The thing is, she got interested in this guy, Lucas. One of the Scott brothers. I know, you might be wondering what was wrong with that. Since I was dating Nathan, his half brother, I had an instant access pass to popularity. Well, Brooke got involved with Lucas, then Nathan and I broke up and Lucas and I made out behind Brooke's back. She found out thanks to my goddamn web cam and after that things got completely fucked up.

That little yet major mistake strained our friendship. A while after the _incident_, as I like to call it, Brooke and Lucas got back together; which meant that Brooke and I had somehow fixed our friendship. The huge ass problem came right after that. Somewhere along the line, my feelings towards Brooke had evolved without me noticing that not so subtle change.

I would often find myself staring at her. Observing her features from afar, or just when we slept on the same bed. I had always thought she was beautiful, but all of a sudden that word had started to fall short from what I actually thought of her. She's drop dead gorgeous. If I didn't know better, I would have thought she wasn't human. I mean, it should be impossible or at least illegal to possess such beauty. Of course, she has a killer body, curvy in all the right places. Owning nothing in excess. Yet what mostly draws me towards her, is her face. I would never get tired or bored of her dark auburn locks. They hung around her face framing her pale skin as if to contain it. They are long and often wavy, though there was a period of time when she used to straighten her hair every single day. I didn't care, it still looked fantastic.

I would never get tired of her skin either. Pale, creamy, soft. Yeah, soft. I remember that from the thousand times I'd held her when she had cried. Over Lucas. Even when she had broken down into a never ending fit of sobs and had her cheeks stained with salty, moist tears; had her face been soft. Ironic, huh? Then there's also her nose. It usually reminds me of a little button. Small and turned up. Perfect I dare say. She doesn't wear sunglasses all that often but when she does, her nose looks even smaller. Onto the subject of her lips, you probably think I'm dying to know what they taste like. Truth is, I don't have to wonder, for I've already tasted them. Briefly, but I have. God, I remember that kiss as if it were the most important event of my life. And it probably was. I hadn't expected her to kiss me, but once she did, it was like taking a peek at heaven. It was quick, yet hard, and the feeling of her soft lips still lingers against mind each time I remind myself of that kiss.

Have I mentioned just how much I love her smile? I'd give anything, and I mean _anything_, to see her smile. Each time she does, the room lights up. My day is overcome with brightness and I find out that I can't think of anything else for the rest of the day. I love the way her dimples come out when she grins. It makes me want to put my fingers there and then grab her face and… Sorry, getting out of topic there. On top of all that, there's her eyes. Seriously, I've never seen eyes like hers. Or maybe it's just my love sick mind playing tricks on me. Anyway, I've noticed that they change colors depending on the light. Usually they're of a hazel shade. Other times, when she's happier or just content about something, they get a green tint. It's in those times, when I love them the most. Of course, it could also be the fact that they're like that when she is happy, but still, when the sun hits then, they turn into an olive green color and I melt. Also, sometimes, when she's overcome with emotions or just overwhelmed, they turn darker, getting almost brown; and I feel as if I could drown in them. Liar. I'm a liar. I could drown in those eyes anytime if I had the chance.

That's when I remember, I might not have the chance anymore. Not after what happened with Lucas. I wish I could take it all back. Go back to that exact moment and connect a wire between my brain and my mouth, so my words would have come out right. I wish that instead of saying I loved Lucas, I had told her the truth about my feelings towards her. I don't know if it was because I'm a coward and my subconscious tricked me or if I was just stupid. By any means, my words did not come out as I had wanted them to. I had hurt her, really bad.

We fought. She slapped me. She left. My soul died.

That's what happened. Then she fought with Lucas and then I got caught up in Derek. If I hadn't been so vulnerable after Brooke left me, so drowned in my own sorrow and self pity, I might have not been fooled by psycho Derek. But I was. And my pedestal, my rock, Brooke; wasn't there to save me. I believed him and it almost cost my life. Yet Brooke did not come to me. That's when I realized that I had fucked up. She wouldn't even look at me. Not even to make snide comments or evil remarks. And that hurt more than if she had tried to hurt me on purpose. At least that way I would have known that she still cared about me. But I didn't even get that.

Now I'm with Lucas. I know you think I'm stupid for doing this, but I think it's my only way of protecting her. See, after all the thinking I've done, a thought popped into my head. Being with Lucas would protect her from getting hurt. Lucas IS a guy, and we all know what's the only thing guys care about when they're less than twenty. If being with Lucas without loving him and putting up a façade would prevent her from getting hurt, even if she isn't happy, that's enough.

In this exact moment, I've just come back home from the hospital, and I'm pretty damn sure that I have no more tears left in my body. No, I haven't been crying over Lucas' heart attack. Well, maybe a little, but just because he's my friend. No, I have been crying over Brooke's last words towards me. In case you don't know, she said we can't go back to being friends like we used to. Yes, we can try to build a new friendship but what we had is gone. That simply tore me inside. I couldn't go back to the hospital and face Lucas, who had just woken up as if nothing had happened between Brooke and I.

Instead, I came back home, to think. Though we all know that even if I try to come up with intelligent explanations or witty retorts to what I've been doing to Brooke and I, all I'll end up doing is blame myself. So, I decided to write her a letter. Hence why I'm being so philosophical right now, which I'm not used to. Taking an old piece of parchment that used to be a drawing made by me, I let my hand slide along the paper tracing the words I've been dreading telling Brooke. Yes, this is a love confession letter. As odd as it might sound, I trust Brooke with my life, so I know that if I tell her not to tell a soul about this letter, as bizarre as that might sound to her, she won't let it slip.

After finishing the letter I sign it with the nick name she gave me all those years ago. _P. Sawyer_. I always kept telling her that it was neither witty nor original, but I've never really told her that I actually like the name. Just as I seal the envelope and put my black pen back down on my desk, I hear a knock on my bedroom door. I freeze, cursing myself for leaving the door unlocked again. But blinking, I remember that I had locked it. So that could mean only two things. Either my dad had come back home from one of his trips, or, which I hoped was the truth, Brooke had come. She was the only person who had a copy of my key.

As I finally turn around, I am met with the most beautiful puffy green eyes. Wait. Puffy? Has she been crying? I blink again and realize that indeed, she has been crying herself dry. But wait again. Green? Her eyes are only green when she's happy. Ok, so she's probably here to tell me that Haley and Lucas have been discharged. No big deal. I blush, realizing that neither of us has said a word since she knocked, so I stand up. She holds a tender hand up, motioning for me to sit on my bed instead. I do as she tells me and lie back. Only a couple seconds later she plops down right next to me. Looking quite hesitant as of what to do next, she rolls on her side and faces me. I do the same and she smiles. Ok, this is getting weird. Right as I open my mouth and am about to speak, she holds up a fingers against my lips, stopping me from making a sound at all.

She looks down seeming shy, which can only mean she's nervous, and fidgets with the hem of her hoodie. After biting down on her lower lip, she looks back up again. Stares into my eyes. And yet again I feel like I could drown in her orbs. She opens her mouth and after a few minutes finally speaks.

"What were you doing?" she asks actually sounding shy and I can't help but wonder if she is nervous.

I blink a few times and smile, letting her know that she shouldn't worry, I won't bite her head off. I move my hand so now it between both our faces on the mattress and speak, finding my voice a lot lower than I thought it'd be, "I was writing a letter" I say simply.

She nods absent mindedly, and not giving the question in her head anymore thought, she asks, "To whom?" she must think she's intruding or that it's not her place to ask, because she blushes, and I can't help but think it's the most adorable thing I've ever seen.

"Honestly? To you" I reply in a whisper, and she actually seems shocked by my answer. I didn't think she'd be caught off guard, apparently she was, though. She's biting on her lower lip again and I fight the urge to do the same. Each time one of us makes a pause, feels like time stretches and hours go by.

"What does it say?" she inquires, and I think she sounds… scared? Yeah, she sounds afraid. Of what, I have no idea. What does she think my letter could possibly say that would scare her so much? I close my eyes for a moment trying to decide on whether I should tell her the content of the letter, which has now lost all its use; or lie to her. I look at her eyes for some kind of answer. Surprisingly, I find it. I drown. I'm drowning in those beautiful eyes of hers again. That's all I was looking for. That's my answer.

"The truth," I say determined not to tell her yet, so I change the subject, "What are you doing here?" I wonder aloud, letting a hint of hope paint my voice, allowing her to know that I'm not mad at her for coming over. She must be thinking what my previous answer might mean, because her eyes now look distant, as if she were deep in thought. And after draining her brain for possible answers, she looks at me again and says, "I- I am here because," is she stuttering? This is something I never thought I'd see. I smirk, encouraging her to continue, and it seems to work, because she does, however, her voice sounds more confident this time, "I haven't been completely honest to you, Peyton" she whispers throatily. I think I just melted at the tone of her voice, but then the meaning of her words down upon me and I let out a heavy sigh. Well, looks like neither of us was being honest.

"Well," I begin in an attempt to explain my thoughts, but she stops me. She cuts me off, "wait, let me say this now. If don't I am going to burst and I won't be able to say it again. So let me speak" I obey her and merely nod awaiting her response. In turn, she licks her lips as if preparing herself and begins, "I know I've been a total bitch to you," what? No! Brooke, don't blame yourself, if anything this is my fault, not yours: I decide against interrupting her and nod again, "but the truth is, after what happened with Lucas and Haley, I been analyzing a few things," ok, now I'm getting worried. I let a small frown cross my features as she goes on, "a few hours ago, under that bridge, I omitted a few things," despite how scared I am of what she might say, I still find myself curious towards this speech and pay attention harder, "when I said that we couldn't go back to the way we were. There's a reason for that. As well as to why before is gone," she pauses and looks terrified. After taking a long break, an awkward silence settles between us and she decides to break it, though not really in the way I wanted her to, "what does your letter say?" and how does that relate to what she was telling me?

I raise an eyebrow at her in confusion and open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. She looks worried and her eyes start going back to their usual hazel color. And as I try to speak again in vain, they get darker. Oh shit, she's going to cry. No, no. Please don't. As if on cue, I finally find my voice. Took me a goddamn long time, "Brooke, you were saying something important, don't leave me hanging like this" oohh…kay. That didn't come out as expected. Fuck, I'm messing up again. Bite your tongue, Peyton. Shit, if I screw up again I will certainly lose her forever. She blushes again as if ashamed. Well, well, Miss Davis ashamed and backing off. Guess she's fuller of surprises than I thought she was.

Concern washing over my face, I let a tiny smile break through my face, letting her know it's ok. That she can take her time. And she does. After what seems like an eternity, though I know it's been like ten minutes, she lets out a long breath and says, "The reason why we can't go back to the way we were," yes? "to why before is gone," YES? "is that…" is trying to torture me or something? She must realize I'm looking at her expectantly, because she blushes and swallows hard, "my feelings have changed, Peyton" she's going to talk about Lucas? No way! "What I'm trying to say is… I love you" WHAT?! I think my eyes have officially come out of their sockets. And my jaw has definitely hit the floor. She doesn't mean it that way, does she? "Then why can't we get what we had back?" I ask and her eyes widen. Have I misunderstood her? "Wait," oh no, here comes one of my idiotic answers. Don't let it come out Peyton, don't- "are you saying that you're in love with me?" too late. I let it out. She either meant that, or she didn't and now hates me. Way to go Sawyer.

Instead of what would have been an expected response, she looks like she's gone mute. I lean my head forward trying to understand what the words she's trying to say are, but I'm welcomed with a different reaction. She grabs my head with both hands and closes the gap between our lips. She crushes my lips against hers with such passion that I think the heat that's coming from us will turn my bed into ashes. I find the hand I had moved up earlier now suddenly annoying where it is and I place it on her cheek instead. I open my eyes, and notice that hers are closed.

This might be a mistake, or not. But I might not be able to kiss her ever again, so I close my eyes as well and let myself get caught up in the moment. She bites down on my lip and I feel my insides melting. The walls melting. She's the only one who can do that. I'm positive I smirk against her mouth and she must feel it too, because she lets her tongue trace my bottom lip seeking entrance. Once I open my mouth, I feel like I've died and gone to heaven. I don't know who. I'm not sure which of the both of us did, but I'm sure one of us has just moaned. I indulge in the taste of her lips against mine, and her tongue sliding against mine and then think that we'll fall on the floor at any moment. That is, if we do turn the bed into ashes. I feel my lungs burning, screaming for air, so I pull away, my eyes still closed.

I open my eyes and hers flutter open at the same time. She's all flushed and her lips are swollen. A sheepish grin spreads through her face and I decide I'm the one who put it there. Grinning to myself, I realize that I must be as, if not more, flustered as she is; and decide to rectify my answer about the letter.

"That's what it says" she looks at me confused and tilts her head to a side, worry lines already carving her forehead. My grin widens even more and I add, "my letter says that I love you, Brooke," she is smiling again. I couldn't be happier, or at least I thought so, "I'm in love with you" screw Lucas, we have each other now. I won't let anything ruin that.

The look in her eyes changes, and so does their color. Oh, going back to green. I can't help but smirk suggestively as she smiles and starts kissing my face all over. If she keeps doing that, I'll visit heaven several times from now on. Her dimples are on full mode and she pulls away, intertwining my hand in hers. We let our breathing go back to normal, and we both calm down. Kissing her is orgasmic. I can't even begin to imagine what making love to her can do to me. I push those thoughts away, careful to leave them close enough that I bring them up not too long from now and bring a hand up her face. I brush my fingers softly upon her cheek and she looks happy. She slightly leans her face against my touch and even though we both know that no words are needed, she decides to speak, "Peyton, we belong together, don't we?" she asks as she lets me embrace her lovingly. I couldn't be happier. And as long as she is with me, I won't be.

Kissing her once again, all my worries slip away. I break away when I realize that my hand is getting tangled in her auburn locks. I don't want to drift away from my point. I haven't answered her yet, though that kiss pretty much said it all, so I whisper against her hair as she places her head on my chest and listens to my heart beat, "Yes, we do," I smile, and feel her smile against my collarbone as well, "all that matters is that we're together now," I continue and she begins to trace invisible patters around my stomach and it tickles. I giggle a little bit then say, "I love you, Brooke"

She looks up and for the hundredth time, I find myself drowning in her green eyes. She quickly pecks me on the lips and whispers, "I love you, too, Peyton" Yes. We're meant to be together. With that thought in mind, we both fall asleep. We have our whole lives to experience this growing love between us.


End file.
